


Always Be My Bird

by curlspen



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (but he's trying), Alpha Bruce Wayne, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Kink, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Omega Jason Todd, Omegaverse, Pseudo-Incest, Rape Aftermath
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlspen/pseuds/curlspen
Summary: Bruce can tell something happened to Jason, and tries his best to help him (making some missteps along the way).
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 14
Kudos: 123





	Always Be My Bird

“I told you, I haven’t killed anyone so get off my fucking case, old man.” Jason isn’t surprised that Bruce would break into his apartment to ‘talk’ to him, but he is getting really tired of it.

“Jason,” Bruce starts right in with that paternal tone that Jason hates, that makes his heart ache. “I haven’t heard anything from you in several months. Red Hood has vanished. I am… worried about you.”

Jason scoffs. “It’s actually pretty normal to not call a guy back when he turns you down.”

“We both know why I can’t be your Alpha.”

“I’m an adult, and you’re not my _father_.”

“But I raised you, even if it was only for a few years, I can’t take advantage of that.”

“You keep saying ‘can’t’, that’s very different than ‘don’t want to’.”

“It is.” Bruce says curtly, refusing to say more.

“Why are you here then? Do you not have enough people to scold? I’m sure there are some available dark-haired orphan boys in this city.”

“I’m not here to scold you, I’m here to help you. You’re not okay.” Bruce’s eyes burn into him, and Jason’s stomach churns.

He can’t know though. Even Batman can’t know…

“In case you haven’t noticed since the last time I tried to kill you; I don’t want your fucking help. I’m not your little bird anymore.” The words burn in Jason’s throat when he speaks them.

“You can hate me all you want, Jason, but you’re still one of mine and I’ll still be here to catch you when you fall.” Bruce reaches for his face, to cup his cheek or muss his hair like he used to, but Jason flinches away and Bruce drops his hand with a pang of loss.

“Oh, don’t worry, old man. I know my place now. I’ll always be that kid you failed and nothing more. The dirty secret whispered about like ‘Ah, Jason, almost forgot about him, he's the one who killed people and tried to get me to fuck him. Well, that’s what I get for picking up street trash.’”

“ _Enough_.” Bruce growls, stepping into Jason’s personal space. “I have _never_ said that and that is _not_ how I see you. That’s your own insecurities talking.”

“ _’My own insecurities’_? As if I just got them all on my own? I see the way you look at the original golden boy Dick, and the perfect rich boy Tim. That's not the way you look at me. I can tell it _hurts_ to look at me, so how about you fucking don’t?”

Jason makes to run, not caring if he has to leave his own damn apartment, but Bruce grabs his wrist with a bruising grip and yanks him back.

“Do not walk away from me.” Bruce’s eyes are burning, but Jason can never tell with what.

Not that he cares anymore. Jason uses his free arm to punch the older man in the jaw, but he ducks and hits Jason first. But not a punch, Jason realizes. A fucking backhand, as if he were still a disobedient child.

“Ah, that brings back memories.”

Jason lunges again with nails scratching and blows vicious, but after several months without training or exercise and barely having the will to eat, Batman easily pins him to the ground. Jason’s wrists are pinned above his head with one big hand, his legs pinned by Bruce’s weight.

“Leave me alone.” Jason tries to growl but his voice comes out tight. “I’m _done_. No more stupid costumes, no more pointless fighting, I just want to be left alone to be as normal as I can be.”

“That’s your choice to make, but I need to know why you haven’t left your house at all, the place is even more a mess than usual, and you look like you haven’t eaten or slept in months.”

“You’re an actual fucking stalker and you deal with your emotions by dressing like a rodent and beating people up so maybe cool it with the judging.”

Jason tries to tug out of Bruce’s grip and the pressure increases with a warning grunt from Bruce.

“Get off of me!” Much to Jason’s shame, tears stream from the corner of his eyes into his hairline.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because you smell like bat shit and it’s making my eyes fucking water.” The response sounds childish and evasive even to Jason’s own ears.

“Jason. Tell. Me.” The pressure on his wrists increases to the point of pain.

Jason has seen Bruce use this tactic on many criminals, increase pressure until they crack. Although the pressure is always much harsher than a slap or a bruised wrist. Bruce is still treating him like he’s his little bird, Jason thinks with bittersweet anger.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” Jason says through gritted teeth and blurred vision.

With a sigh and a look of shame, Bruce lets go of his wrists altogether and stands up, offering a hand to Jason. Resigned, he takes it.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Jason. I just need you to let me in.” Bruce says tiredly, and Jason finally hears the undercurrent of desperation in his voice.

Jason really wishes he could stop fucking crying. Before this, he almost never cried, and he liked it that way. Wordlessly, Jason grabs a bottle of cheap whine from the fridge and sits on his couch, wrapping himself up in the blankets. It isn’t that cold in here, but he feels better having all of his body covered. He doesn’t protest when Bruce sits next to him, keeping his distance. It's hard to not feel a pang of embarrassment over what _Bruce Wayne_ must think of his cramped city apartment and slightly lumpy couch.

Bruce breaks the silence after a long moment: “When you were a kid, sometimes you would come into my room saying you had nightmares, and I’d hold you and say you were safe, but you never told me what the dreams were about. I always wanted to help you, but you wouldn’t let me in.”

Jason swallows a few times before he trusts his voice.

“How does it always end up being my fault?” His voice falters despite his efforts.

“It’s not your fault. I’m the one who failed.” Bruce’s deep, gentle voice wraps around Jason like the blanket.

Bruce scoots closer slowly, until Jason can smell him. It feels sick that Bruce’s scent still makes his cock harden and ache even now. He’s supposed to be too broken to think about sex and yet he still wants Bruce, the man who will never want him.

“Jaybird. Please, let me in. I cannot bare to lose my boy again.” Even Bruce's voice falters at that.

Jason feels himself crack under the tender yet persistent pressure of Bruce’s deep voice and lovely words. He’s been burned before, and yet he still trusts Bruce deep down because apparently he’s a fucking idiot. He takes a greedy swing of the alcohol, not tasting it but letting it warm his chest, but the words still feel too big to force out of his throat and they taste like puke in his mouth:

“Black Mask… When I presented as an Omega, he, he saw it as a chance for revenge… Bruce, _please_ don’t make me say it.”

“I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do… Can I hold you?” Bruce hopes that's the right thing to say to a... a rape victim (he can't process the amount of rage it fills him with to associate that word with _his_ Jaybird).

“Sure, I’ve already lost my pride anyways.” Jason mutters, crawling onto Bruce’s lap with his legs to one side and his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

For several minutes, Bruce doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t know what else to say, he just rubs Jason’s back and lets him cry in the warm, comfortable silence.

“I love you.” Bruce finally decides to say. “I know I didn’t say that enough, but I do.”

Jason wants to say it back because he does, more than anyone, but he can’t get the words out. When Bruce threads his big fingers into his hair, he doesn’t flinch away and in fact leans into his touch with a whimper.

“I’ll mate to you, if you still want me and if it will make you feel safer.”

Jason opens his mouth but Bruce cuts him off with a finger to his lips.

“No. Not right now, baby. You need to sleep. Tell me tomorrow.”

Bruce may have meant for him to actually go to bed, but Jason suddenly feels too tired for that. Instead, he lays his head on Bruce’s chest and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> My first (posted) Brujay fic! I have more WIPs for these two beautiful messes so please comment and let me know your thoughts <3


End file.
